Breakout
by akane47
Summary: One-shot. The story of how Puck got his Mohawk.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, not even Mr. Puckerman's abandoned electric shaver. (As if I'd want that. Eewww.) The title of this fic comes from the 1999 song by the Foo Fighters.

**BREAKOUT**

The front door slammed shut and Noah Puckerman heard his mother call out, "Is that you, Noah?"

"Yeah," he called back.

"Could you check on your sister for a moment? I need to put dinner in the oven."

Puck groaned, but paused in the living room long enough to see his three-year-old sister playing quietly on the carpet. "She's fine," he told his mother, and rushed upstairs to his room before Mrs. Puckerman could think of anything else to make him do.

Once his door was shut and he was alone, Puck threw his backpack aside and flopped down on his bed.

This was the worst day of his life. During English class, Finn Hudson had passed a note to Quinn Fabray, asking if she'd go out with him if he ever asked her, and it had come back with a check in the "Yes" box. Finn was, of course, over the moon, and Puck had to pretend to be happy for his best friend even though it was totally eating him up inside.

_Finn's a good guy,_ he told himself. _He deserves to have good things happen to him._

_But do ALL the good things have to happen to Finn? _another part of him asked. _What about me?_

First, it was playing quarterback on the football team. Puck had played quarterback in practically all their games growing up. He thought he was a shoo-in for their middle school team until Finn had tried out and wowed the coach. Rather than get stuck on the bench, Puck went out for wide receiver.

It seemed to be working. He and Finn, of course, were awesome together and the team was on a winning streak. Puck was glad about that, but it kind of hurt, too. The other guys listened to Finn, and followed him, the way they never had with Puck. He guessed it was because people always thought Finn was the nicer one between the two of them. Finn was polite to everyone and didn't get into as much trouble as Puck did. He didn't look like he was going to grow up to become a punk, like Puck probably was. And Finn's dad died serving the country, which made people feel sorry for Finn, while Puck's dad was alive and a deadbeat.

You had to hand it to Finn; he wasn't a fake person at all and what you see was what you got with him. The trouble was that Finn was _all_ people seemed to see these days.

Worst of all, it looked like Finn was all Quinn could see, too.

_Well, they're perfect together,_ Puck told himself. Quinn was smart, pretty and a cheerleader. Finn was the quarterback of the football team and one of the nicest guys Puck knew. He was the perfect boyfriend for Quinn.

No, he wasn't.

Puck sighed. He used to think that it was so cool that he and his best friend had so much in common - football, music, not having a dad - but he was so _sick_ of being compared to Finn... and always coming up short.

_Maybe it's time people stopped comparing us._

_But how do I make them do that?_

He sat up as the idea began to grow. There was no way in hell Puck was going to give up football or music, and his family wasn't going to become the perfect all-American family overnight (actually, he didn't want his dad to ever come back), but people could stop thinking that Finn was "the nicer one" if Puck just became the anti-Finn.

If Finn made people like him, then Puck would scare the bejeezus out of them. If Finn was going to be the Gipper, inspiring their football teammates with his heart and his example, then Puck was going to kick ass on the field. And if Finn looked like the kind of guy that girls like Quinn wanted to take home to their parents, then Puck was going to make damn sure _he_ didn't.

He got up, his heart pounding, and went into the bathroom. Some of his dad's things were still there, even though Mr. Puckerman hadn't been home in over a year. Cursing under his breath, Puck threw his dad's toothbrush in the trash.

Then he picked up the electric shaver and plugged it in. He'd never used it before, but he bet he would soon. Unlike Finn, who looked like an overgrown third grader, Puck's peach fuzz was already coming in.

_This is something Finn would never have the guts to do,_ Puck thought smugly as he drew the shaver through his thick, curly hair and bared a stripe down his skull. If he ever dared Finn to get a mohawk, the other boy would probably chicken out and say that his mom wouldn't like it. Well, Puck was sure _his_ mom wasn't going to like it either, but he didn't care. It was his hair and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

He shaved the area around his right ear and practiced a badass sneer in the mirror. Everyone at school was going to think Puck was a real badass when he showed up the next day with a mohawk. If they didn't, they'd be too scared of him to say so, which was exactly what he wanted.

Puck had a hunch that Quinn wasn't going to like the mohawk, but he told himself he didn't care. She was off-limits, anyway, if she was going to date his best friend.

Besides, Santana Lopez might like it.

_If I'm gonna grow up to be a punk,_ _I might as well start now._


End file.
